Harry Potter and the Death Eater's Curse
by Sophia Clark
Summary: After defeating Voldemort, Harry returns to Hogwarts for his seventh & final year. Malfoy & Harry face tough realizations that will shape their futures. & just because Voldemort's gone, that doesn't mean the Wizarding World is at peace.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my first ever time writing fanfiction, so I'd love to hear what people think of my work. Please don't worry about hurting my feelings with criticism; I want to improve and I can take it! This chapter mainly serves to set up the story, so the action won't really start until chapter two (sorry!). Note that this takes place after Deathly Hallows (but ignores the epilogue). Please rate and review! Oh yes, and enjoy!

Chapter One: Back to the Hollow

The sleepy little town of Godric's Hollow was pleasantly bathed in the vibrant colors of the setting sun. It was around nine o'clock in the evening and Harry Potter had been sitting upon an over-turned bucket for the last five minutes as he watched the sky change color. It had been a long day of hard work and the young man was quite tired. Tired, but unquestionably happy.

Nearly twelve weeks had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts, the downfall of Lord Voldemort, and the close of each new day brought Harry a sense of ease and contentment. The facts were still slowly sinking into Harry's brain; he had triumphed, he had won! Some days he simply could not wrap his head around it. His whole life had been leading up to the confrontation with Voldemort, and now it was finally over he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

It wasn't that he felt lost or purposeless. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Until recently, Harry had felt as though he was sprinting toward the end of his life, as though he had no time. Now however, he had all the time in the world. He could do anything and everything his heart desired, and he could take all the time he wanted with which to enjoy it all. The possibilities made his head spin, but his heart felt lighter than he could ever remember it being. The first thing Harry planned to do was get some peace and quiet and to relax. He figured he deserved a good rest.

For a few weeks following their victory Harry had stayed at the Burrow, mourning the losses of Fred, Remus and Tonks while taking comfort in the fact that the rest of his adopted family was safe and sound (and enjoying Molly's superb cooking). But all too soon he had grown restless and decided it was time to leave the Weasleys and establish his own place to live. His first thought had been of Grimmauld Place, but that idea was quashed almost as soon as it came; Sirius' old house was gloomy and Harry found it downright depressing. In the end, it took him only a few days to come up with the perfect location to settle down: Godric's Hollow. It had been his first home after all, the place where he would have spent his childhood had it not been for Voldemort. Once this idea came to him, Harry knew it was the only place he could possibly live and quite frankly he could not believe he had not thought of it straight away.

So Harry had left the Burrow and taken up the none-too-small task of rebuilding his parent's home. Not knowing the first thing about construction, he and Ron had spent about half a day scratching their heads and obtaining minor injuries (Ron) before enlisting the help of professionals. Ron had been wary of hiring a contractor at first, but warmed up to the idea after the third time he dropped a hammer on to his own foot.

As he sat and watched the sky shift from bright pink and orange to a muted blue and black, Harry thought of the progress they had made on the house. Since the foundations were still intact, he had chosen to retain the original design, and all of the frame work was now complete. The house's exterior and grounds were totally finished as well. Much to Ron's amusement, Harry had electricians, plumbers and many other muggle experts buzzing around the clock to get the job done as quickly as possible. He wanted it finished before he left for Hogwarts so he wouldn't have to worry while he was away at school, which gave him a mere five weeks at this point. He knew it would be difficult, but had faith that it could be done. He had hired the best and the brightest after all.

Harry could not wait to return to Hogwarts. He was extremely excited to be going back for another year, even though it would be his last. He missed the beautiful castle with all his heart. It was where he felt the most safe, comfortable and happy. Professor McGonagall was now Headmistress and she had been keeping Harry up-to-date on the school's renovations. The battle had done a tremendous amount of damage to the ancient building, but as with Harry's new house, things were moving very quickly with the rebuild. Harry was eager to see how everything was going and how much had changed.

The sun had fully set by now and Harry looked up to see the night's first stars shine above his new home. He loved gazing at the stars, noticing the many constellations and letting his imagination wander. As he looked, a star suddenly shot across the sky, a beam of light that was gone just as fast as it had come. Harry quickly closed his eyes and thought of a wish.

But what should he wish for? He already had everything he could want, didn't he? Voldemort was dead and gone and the Wizarding World was carefully being rebuilt from the bottom up. The trials of the remaining Death Eaters were currently underway. He had his wonderful friends surrounding him, and now his home as well. What did he want or need?

Well for one thing, I need the bloody Daily Prophet off my arse, he thought spitefully.

This was certainly true; the paper had been mercilessly hounding Harry and tracking his every move for weeks on end, and it was getting old fast. One morning in June he had woken up to find a squat, round-faced photographer peering in through the window of his bedroom, and the next day the Prophet's front-page story was all about his worn bedclothes and choice of underwear. He had been appalled and rather embarrassed when he read the article, especially since he had been in George's company at the time.

"My Harry, these briefs don't leave much to the imagination, do they?" George said with a wicked grin on his face. "No, not much at all. Funny, I always figured you for the boxer type."

Harry's mortification had been absolute, as Ginny had chosen that moment to enter the kitchen. She stopped dead at George's words, a startled look on her pale face. Harry's face and neck immediately went as red as the siblings' hair, and he snatched the paper out of George's hands and dashed up to Ron's room. Ever since then, every time Harry had seen George or Charlie he had been teased relentlessly. Mrs. Weasley shot them reproachful looks whenever she heard them, but they paid her no mind. Ginny didn't speak a word about it to Harry. Then again, she didn't speak to him much at all anymore.

The day they had arrived back at the Burrow Ginny had taken Harry aside and explained that although she still cared for him a great deal and always would, she had realised while he was off hunting for Horcruxes that she needed to be with someone a bit less "special" (her word) than Harry. She had ambitions to become a Quidditch player, and wanted to be known for her own talents, rather than for Harry's fame. Harry had understood, but that had not made the breakup any easier on him. He was still very much taken with Ginny, while she had moved on to a handsome muggle boy who lived nearby, and things had been ridiculously awkward between the two ever since.

So maybe that's what he should wish for, some activity in his love life. Truth be told, he got dozens of letters daily asking for dates (one batty woman had even been so bold as to ask for his hand) with the Chosen One. It made his insides churn just thinking about it. Why couldn't he find someone who wanted to be with the real him? Not the great bloody hero, just Harry. He had thought for a while that Ginny was that person, but obviously he had been wrong. Yes, he thought. That was really the only thing missing in his life at present, someone to share it with.

With that thought in mind, Harry made his wish and opened his eyes once more. He sighed wistfully, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. He stared at the moon for a few long seconds before smiling and shaking his head. He should know better than to rely on shooting stars. He was just overtired and was being silly. Thinking that tomorrow he would pay a visit to Ron for a game or two of pick-up Quidditch, he put love out of his mind and went inside to get some well deserved rest.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: More Birthday Surprises

Harry awoke abruptly in the early hours of the morning with his heart pounding and a sheen of sweat on his pale face. He had been dreaming of Ginny again, as he did every single night. Ginny's hair, Ginny's smile, the way her eyes flashed when she was either excited or angry. He hated himself for having these dreams (only once they were over) but could do nothing to prevent them. Tonight had showcased Ginny up in the air racing down the pitch with the Quaffle in hand. Her fiery hair streamed out behind her and her face was determined and fierce. The dream served the duel purpose of reminding Harry just how pretty she was when she flew and also that she had ditched him to further her Quidditch career. Needless to say, it did not leave him with any warm or fuzzy feelings.

It took Harry a moment to calm down enough to realize what had brought him back to consciousness so swiftly. Shaking his head and rubbing his sleepy eyes, he saw the blurred outlines of two people standing quite close to him in the darkness. "Oi!" he yelped in confusion, jumping up and clutching the blanket to his chest. He reached his right arm out to the bedside table, searching for both glasses and wand.

As his shaking fingers found them, the room light clicked on and the shorter of the two figures fumed, "What did I tell you, Ronald. Waking him up in the dead of night, scaring him half to death! What a way to start off your birthday!"

Sighing with relief, Harry fumbled with his glasses and smiled up at his two best friends. Ron was beaming down at him, one hand clutching a bright orange box adorned with a stupendously large purple bow, the other wrapped tightly around the waist of the frowning girl beside him.

"Oh come on, Hermione. Look, he's fine, alright? Happy to see us!" Ron seemed not to notice the look on his girlfriend's face, due to the fact that he was still watching Harry. Harry however saw her narrowed eyes and McGonagall-thin mouth, and he quickly intervened before she could say anything else.

"Honestly, it's fine. You just startled me is all. And of course I'm happy to see you! Next time, just try knocking, yeah?"

Hermione still looked stern for a moment, but turned her gaze to Harry and a grin spread across her face. "I told him to let you have a lie-in, as it is your birthday, but he wanted to surprise you. Wouldn't listen to sense. Not surprising, really."

"Watch it, I am right here!" Ron said indignantly, taking his eyes off Harry for the first time to gaze down at his bushy-haired lover. She smiled up at him sweetly, tickling his side lightly to let him know she was only teasing. At the look on her face Ron smiled a rather goofy smile and gave her a gentle squeeze.

Harry watched the exchange and felt a pang of jealousy. He was truly and deeply happy for Ron and Hermione. After all, he had watched them, frustrated, go back and forth for years, both too afraid to admit to their feelings. Now they were finally together, and Harry could not be more pleased. The fact of the matter was that he himself was once again alone. Alone on his birthday.

"Oh but where's my head now?" Hermione said, tearing Harry away from his lonely thoughts. "Happy birthday, Harry!" She and Ron both beamed at him.

"Yeah, happy birthday mate. We got you this. It's not much, but we thought you'd like it." Ron handed the orange package to Harry and shrugged.

Taking the gift from Ron, Harry quickly tore away the wrapping paper and opened the box with curiosity. What could it be? As his eyes fell on the football-sized figurine, he gasped. It was a model of a dragon, the same type of dragon that the trio had flown on to escape from Gringotts last May. He recognized the spiked wings and tail. It was beautifully made with jewel-bright red eyes and hard, metallic scales. As he reached for it, Ron held up a hand to stop him.

"That's a moving model, Harry. It comes to life when you touch it. We found out what kind of dragon that was and..." He trailed off at the look on Hermione's face. "Well okay, Hermione researched the type of dragon, but I found this in Diagon Alley." Hermione seemed mollified.

"It's a Ukrainian Ironbelly, the largest breed of dragon there is. I still can't believe we didn't have any trouble with that one, they're quite dangerous. I suppose it being so old and blind had a lot to do with it. And it had been down in the dark for Merlin knows how long." Hermione mused.

"Wow, thanks guys. This is brilliant!" Harry said cheerfully. He couldn't stop himself from running a hand down the dragon's scaly back, and as soon as his fingers touched the hard surface, the tiny dragon sprang to life, flexing its wings and glaring up at them. It was definitely a bit sinister looking, but Harry also thought it was rather beautiful. The grey of the scales reminded him of something, though he could not think of what that was.

"I'm glad you like it, we weren't sure what you might want for the house. And besides, we wanted to get you something you can bring with you to Hogwarts." Hermione looked extremely pleased with Harry's reaction.

"I knew you'd love it." Ron said happily, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Now come on, out of bed! Mum wants you over first thing for breakfast and presents."

Half an hour later Harry was showered and dressed and the three friends had apparated to the front yard of the Burrow. Harry could see that the kitchen light was on and he knew that Mrs. Weasley was already up and preparing what was sure to be a wonderful meal. His stomach grumbled in anticipation. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, the wind was knocked out of him momentarily by a fierce hug and his vision obscured by a mass of red hair.

"Oh Harry dear, happy birthday!" Mrs. Weasley sang loudly in his ear. "I didn't expect you for another hour or so. Ron didn't wake you up, did he?" She shot her son a piercing look.

"Couldn't help it mum." Ron shrugged, taking a piece of bacon off a plate and stuffing it in his mouth. "It's not every day your best friend turns eighteen you know."

"That's right, eighteen." she said, turning back to Harry fondly. "You're an adult in the muggle world now too. All grown up." She had tears shining in her warm eyes and she pulled Harry in for another tight hug. "But far too skinny! Here, let me make you a plate."

By the time Harry was fed to Mrs. Weasley's approval, which took three helpings of everything and a tightening of Harry's waistband, the rest of the family had all made their way to the kitchen in varying states of consciousness. Mr. Weasley had merely shaken Harry's hand, given Mrs. Weasley a kiss on the cheek and taken a piece of toast before heading off to work, but Charlie, George and Ginny were now sitting at the table, eating and talking merrily.

Once everyone was finished eating Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a warm smile and an affectionate squeeze to the hand. "Harry dear, the boys, Arthur and I have all decided to get you a new owl for your birthday. We thought you'd like to pick one out for yourself though, so I thought you could all take a trip to Diagon Alley today."

"Yeah, and I have to pop into the shop anyway," said George grinning. "Must make sure to keep bringing home the pudding, as they say." He winked at Harry.

"That's bacon, not pudding." muttered Hermione testily. "Honestly, if you're going to use muggle phrases, you should at least try to get them correct."

Harry smirked, but turned back to Mrs. Weasley. "Thanks Mrs. Weasley, but that's really too much. You don't have to..." he began, but was immediately cut off.

"Nonsense. It's the least we can do, dear." She smiled and Harry knew it would be no good to argue.

While George and Charlie went up to get dressed and Ron and Hermione helped Mrs. Weasley clear the table, Ginny came over to Harry with a small package in her hands. Harry's insides lurched unpleasantly as she approached and he paled, remembering their last conversation.

"Here Harry, happy birthday." she said quietly, handing him the gift. "No hard feelings?"  
It was a box of Chocolate Frogs. Harry couldn't believe it. After everything that had happened between them, all he meant to her was a pack of Chocolate Frogs? He was at once intensely glad that he had not purchased the rather expensive Weird Sisters concert tickets he had been planning to give Ginny for her birthday before they split. At the moment he thought she would do just fine with some Pumpkin Pasties.  
"Er, thanks Ginny. No, no hard feelings." He tried to smile but it was really more of a grimace. Ginny left soon after that, telling Mrs. Weasley that Derek (her new boyfriend) had asked her over for the afternoon. Harry stared intently at the wall until she was gone.

Stepping out of the fire in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry brushed off his robes and pulled his glasses out of his pocket. He still wasn't a fan of Floo travel, and the trip hadn't done much to improve his mood. He did cheer up however after Charlie tripped George while he was clambering out of the fire; George swore vengeance and Harry was looking forward to seeing what the prankster would do to retaliate.

Eeylops Owl Emporium was just as dark as he remembered it, filled with the soft hooting and rustling of many dozing birds. Harry took his time choosing his new owl and after ten minutes of searching decided on a beautiful Australian Masked Owl. He had dark brown eyes which were closed at the moment and a blackish brown coat with grey and white spots. His face and stomach were mostly white. Even with Harry's many protests that he would gladly pay, Charlie handed over the five Galleons two Sickles and thirteen Knuts for the bird and then they left the shop to go find George in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Once through the doors Ron muttered something to Harry about needing to stock up on Skiving Snackboxes before their return to school and Hermione wandered over to the Wonderwitch section. Harry was about to make his way over to the Spell-Checking Quills when his arm was grabbed by George, who had his trademark devilish grin in place.

"Harry my boy, why don't you step this way for a minute. I have something here I think might interest you."

Feeling slightly wary, Harry followed George into a small, cramped storeroom piled with boxes upon boxes of merchandise. Thinking George wanted to show him some new product, Harry was at first confused when he pulled a magazine out of his pocket and presented it with a flourish.

"Just a little something to get you through the long, lonely nights. Happy birthday, mate."

Harry stared at the cover of the magazine with wide eyes. On it, two men were locked in a tight embrace, wearing nothing but their underwear. A small, muscular blonde had his legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man with dark brown hair, and was biting his earlobe while sending a scorching gaze in the direction of the camera. The tall man was groping the other's arse and sucking on his neck. For some reason, the sight caused Harry's face to flush with color and his palms and forehead to break out with sweat. He looked up at George in shock when the magazine was pushed into his hands.

"You're welcome!" George called as he strode back into the main store, a look of utter amusement on his face. Harry heard him cackling with laughter before the door shut behind him with a snap.

Harry couldn't believe George! Until now he had always found him to be unerringly funny, but this was not even remotely humorous! What was he playing at, giving Harry a gay porn magazine? As if Harry would enjoy it! Ha! That thought actually was quite laughable. Harry had never found another boy attractive in his life, never. He liked pretty girls, like Ginny and Cho! But wait, a voice somewhere in his head said snidely. That's not true. You thought Cedric was handsome, didn't you? Harry's face blanched. Well everyone knew that Cedric was handsome, it was just a fact. Just because Harry had noticed the other boy's rugged good looks, it didn't mean that he was...was...it didn't mean anything at all!

Did it?

No, it absolutely did not. Harry shook himself mentally. Get a grip! It's just a stupid joke of George's and you're taking it way too seriously! He didn't mean anything by it! With that, Harry shoved the magazine into his robes and left the storeroom at once. Feeling that he did not want to see George for a while, Harry ducked his head at the sight of his red hair and moved toward the shop exit. Before he reached the door however, he was intercepted by a suspicious looking Hermione.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Harry?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Er, nowhere." Her eyes seemed to narrow even further, a remarkable feat. "I mean, I'm not feeling too well all of a sudden. Think I'll pop into the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. Settle my stomach." It was partially true, his stomach had been feeling rather uneasy ever since he had laid eyes on the magazine.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that!" Hermione said, her expression changing to one of concern at once. "Would you like me to come with you?"

"No, no don't worry about me. It's not too bad really." Harry assured her. He just wanted to be alone for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Stay and shop, I'll be back before you know it."

"Alright, Harry." Hermione still looked a bit worried, but at least she was letting him go. "We'll be here when you're feeling ready. But if you start to feel any worse, send someone down and we'll come right away."

Harry gave her a small smile. He couldn't believe sometimes how lucky he was to have such caring friends. "Thanks, Hermione. You're the best."

She beamed back at him and stepped aside so he could make his exit. The street was much busier than it had been that morning. Harry had to hold his owl's cage above his head so that the sleeping bird was not jostled too badly; as it was, he still woke up with a loud, indignant hoot, causing quite a few heads to turn in Harry's direction. He tried to move quickly through the crowd, not wanting to be bombarded by his adoring public. He finally made it back to the pub just as his owl was settling himself back down in his cage. Choosing the seat at the farthest end of the shadowy bar, Harry kept his head down and didn't notice the pair of striking grey eyes following his movements.

"Firewhiskey, please." Harry grunted to Tom, the barman. He really didn't want to be recognized today if he could help it.

"Why, hello Potter."

Harry whipped his head around at the sound of the low voice. He knew that voice.

Standing behind the stool next to him with an unreadable look on his pale face was none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry had known it was Malfoy, but had hoped that his mind was playing tricks on him. Malfoy was the last person he wanted to see right now. Well, actually Ginny was probably the last. Or possibly George. Harry smiled and couldn't suppress a chuckle as he realized there were actually people he wanted to see less than Malfoy. It had to be a first.

A flicker of something passed over the man's face but was gone before Harry could comprehend it. "And what's so funny, Potter?"

Malfoy's tone was not cold or harsh, as Harry was so used to hearing. It was simply curious. Nor was his mouth in its usual sneer, and one corner actually seemed to be slightly raised, as though Malfoy was trying not to smile. "Nothing, just wasn't expecting to see you here, Malfoy." Harry hoped he would accept this because he really did not want to admit that Malfoy was not his least favorite person right now. It seemed like the other man knew this was not altogether true, but decided not to press the matter.

"Mind if I join you? We can't have our Savior seen drinking alone, now can we?"

Again, his tone was not unkind and though Harry grimaced at the nickname, he shook his head and allowed Malfoy to sit down.

Harry was slightly uncomfortable. He did not know quite where he and Malfoy stood. It was true that they had both helped each other out, but it was also true that they did not like each other. Or at least, that's what Harry had thought. But as he glanced over at the man next to him, he did not sense any dislike or anger or anything else that he was used to feeling from Malfoy. In fact, he seemed friendly. It greatly confused Harry.

"Are you alright, Malfoy? You seem a bit...different."

Malfoy smiled a real smile and sighed. "Well, Potter I guess I am feeling quite relieved now that the war is finally over. It's taken a great deal of my stress away. I no longer have to constantly be looking over my shoulder for danger. Don't you feel the same?"

Harry was dumbfounded. He could not believe he was hearing this from Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater and Slytherin royalty.

"I suppose you are surprised to hear me say it. Tell me, did it really look like I was enjoying myself to you when you were at the manor?"

Again Harry couldn't respond. No, it could not have been plainer that Draco had most certainly not been happy when Harry, Ron and Hermione had been briefly imprisoned at Malfoy Manor last Spring. When Draco had, for whatever reason, lied and not revealed the trio to his fellows. They would have died then and there by Voldemort's hand had Draco not done so. Wait, since when was he Draco?

The pale man continued, "I understand that it is difficult for you to believe Potter, but I am overjoyed with the outcome of the war. I can think of only one person who wanted Voldemort's destruction more than myself."

At this, Harry found his voice. "It's not so hard to believe, Dr...Malfoy. Like you said, I was at the manor. I saw the look on your face. You may not be my favorite person, but I know you're not all that evil, really."

Draco snorted. "What a resounding vote of confidence. Alert the Daily Prophet, Harry Potter says Draco Malfoy is 'not all that evil!'" He smirked, but not in his usual, vicious manner. His tone was playful, and he seemed close to laughter. He also seemed rather pleased with himself.

Well, some things will never change, Harry thought dryly.

"Leave the Daily Prophet out of this, will you? I don't need any more trouble from them right now." Harry was not sure where this conversation was headed, but at least it seemed as though he and Draco could actually be civil toward one another. This was unexpected, though not unwelcomed. His confrontations with Malfoy over the years had tired Harry to no end, and he was immensely glad that it appeared there would be no more. "So, are we like not mortal enemies now or what?" he asked the blonde tentatively.

Draco seemed to ponder the question. Harry was suddenly nervous to hear the answer, but after a moment Draco's lips turned upward into a small smile and he said, "No, perhaps not mortal enemies any longer. Closer to grudgingly respectful adversaries now, I'd say."

At this, Harry had to smile. "Sounds good to me, Draco."

"Well, I'd better be leaving. I'm expected at my mother's soon for tea. I suppose I'll being seeing you at Hogwarts?" Draco asked, standing up and placing a few coins on the bar next to his drink.

"Yes, I suppose you will. You know, this has actually been a rather pleasant talk. Who would have imagined we were capable of such a thing, right?"

Once again there was a smile on his face as Draco looked down at Harry. "Yes, who indeed. See you around, Harry." He seemed to hesitate, then he held out his hand. Not missing the significance of the gesture, Harry took Draco's hand and shook it firmly. The blonde gave him one last smile and left the pub.

Even hours after he returned home later that night, Harry could not seem to get a hold of his thoughts. He was happy but still slightly confused by his conversation with Draco, and the incident with George and that magazine was still making his insides churn whenever he thought of it. He had thrown it in the back of his closet upon arriving home and had desperately tried to take his mind off the blasted thing, but to no avail. Now he lay awake in bed, silently yelling at his own mind to shut off so that he could sleep. After what seemed like hours, he was finally heading toward blissful unconsciousness. His last thought before he fell under completely was that this had been the strangest and most unexpected birthday of his life, even counting his twelfth.

And that night, for the first time in months, Harry did not dream of Ginny.

AN: Here is a picture of an Australian Masked Owl if you are interested: .org/wikipedia/commons/b/b0/Masked_owl_. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please remember to rate and review! 


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